After We Go
by sbyamibakura
Summary: Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins. Mentions of Reigns/Styles, Corbin/Ziggler, Owens/Zayn. Set post-Backlash 2016. He watches Seth's hands clench into fists, watches Seth's eyes turn away from him and it's that which makes his blood boil most. *Look at me*. It was his rallying cry since he got there and found someone who understood him completely. Part Nine of Duality.


After We Go

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: The wrestlers own themselves, the gimmicks are owned by WWE. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warnings: Rated M for sexual content, slash, language, etc.

Pairings: Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins. Mentions of Roman Reigns/AJ Styles, Baron Corbin/Dolph Ziggler, Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn.

Setting: Post-Backlash 2016.

Summary: He watches Seth's hands clench into fists, watches Seth's eyes turn away from him and it's that which makes his blood boil most. _Look at me_. It was his rallying cry since he got there and found someone who understood him completely, even when they were merely enemies.

Part Nine of _Duality_.

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He's nearly out the door when he stops, looking around for a few seconds before it really hits him; it was gone.

He had _lost_.

He remembered leaving the ring in a daze, getting to the back, ignoring the people who quickly step aside (he could only wonder what his face looked like then), heading back to the locker room. Alone.

He feels the loss of the weight keenly; he had gotten _used_ to the belt around his waist or on his shoulder. It had become apart of him and, just as quickly, was gone.

He wondered if this loss was what Seth felt after losing it. What Roman felt after losing it.

He had literally clawed his way up, scratched, crawled, to get up to the top of that mountain and-much more quickly-was pushed off of its peak. By Roman's fucking _boyfriend_ no less. Lover, boyfriend, _partner_ , whatever. A change of words didn't change the fact that he had lost to AJ Styles. All that hard work...everything gone.

He closes the door behind him, bag in hand and walks off towards the back, where his rented car was parked. He pauses when he hears a noise off to the side.

"I'm- _fuck_. I'm fine, I said." He recognized the voice immediately; Ziggler.

"Yes, you so obviously are." A voice says to Ziggler, dryly. He blinks as he also recognizes that voice as Baron Corbin. Were they fighting again? But it didn't sound like it.

"Shut up." Ziggler mutters.

Corbin sighs. "If you'd just let me-"

"I'm not letting you _lick_ me!" Ziggler exclaims.

"You seemed fine with that last night." Corbin says smugly.

Woah, okay. He heard enough. He walks off. Hey, he was equal opportunity for everyone, but that didn't mean he wanted to picture Corbin _or_ Ziggler in the buff.

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He is just getting into his food (nearest place still open was Waffle House. It was cheap and Dean was never one to be picky about food. Too often, in the past, it was too hard to come by in general, so beggers could never be choosers) when yet _another_ voice he recognizes hits his ear. What the hell was this, Bug the Ex-Champ Variety Hour?

 _Ex_ -champ.

He swallows down the bitterness with just as bitter coffee.

"Great match."

A snort. "Yeah, until he ate that pin, right?"

He opens his eyes to see Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens sitting across from him. Sami frowns at Owens.

"That's not funny."

Owens rolls his eyes with-Dean notices-the Universal Title sitting firmly on his waist.

"Does he take that shit everywhere?" Dean asks, waving his fork in Owens' general direction.

Sami glances at Owens-and at the title-and shrugs.

"Gotta chafe if he fucks you with it on." Dean says absentmindedly, using his fork and knife to dig into his pancakes with an enthusiasm he didn't really feel.

Sami lets out a squeak of a sound, which makes Owens and Dean both chuckle at the same time. Owens glares at Dean but Dean is too tired to do anything but give a shrug, going back to his food.

"Why're you here anyway?" He asks. He wasn't friends with Kevin Owens by any stretch-they had put each other through hell and back-but Sami was a good guy (he just wondered what he saw in someone like Kevin Owens.)

"I was uh," Sami says, sheepishly, scratching his neck. "Well, you know."

Dean raises an eyebrow and Owens growls at him.

"None of your fucking business." Owens says, with another glare.

"You're friends with Styles, right?" Dean says, finishing the rest of his food in a big syrupy bite (ignoring Owens staring at him with daggers in his eyes.)

"Yeah." Sami says, relieved. "But how did you know?"

"Well your _friend_ ," He says, with a grimace (the loss was still as fresh as it was when he heard them announce a _new_ WWE Champion.) "Is sleeping with-or going out with, or whatever-with my Brother, so yeah."

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He gets back to his hotel room with a sigh (god, he couldn't take any more of that _flirting_. How anyone thought the 'fighting' Owens and Sami did was anything _but_ flirting was beyond him.) He flops onto the bed and grimaces. He needed a shower but he wasn't in any mood to get one just yet. Instead he takes out his phone and stares at it.

It was flooded with messages. Most were from Roman (as he expected. He knew how awkward Roman had to feel, being in the middle of this, as it were. With Dean being his Brother and AJ Styles being his...something special), but there is one, at the very bottom of the list that has him pausing. It's not a number in his phone but he recognizes who it's from immediately, the number still burned into his brain even after erasing it two years prior.

It was from Seth.

It says only two words:

 _I'm sorry._

He stares at the phone, swallowing against the lump in his throat, eyes nearly closing at the sudden rush of emotions that come running back through him and he wants to hate Seth for it. Hate him all over again, for everything, for making him relive all of that again, making him feel these flood of feelings that he had never wanted to feel to begin with. He had opened himself up to Seth Rollins, in ways that he had never opened up to anyone, not even Roman who was his Brother (closer to him than anyone than anyone with _actual_ blood ties was to him.)

He stews like that for minutes, before biting on his lip hard, typing a couple of words to that number, knowing (just _knowing_ Seth had to be near.)

 _Room 305._

And he waits.

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He wasn't sure if he expected a long wait from Seth, debating with himself on whether he would-or could-come, but he only waits a few short minutes before he hears a short knock on his door. And just like that, the flood of emotions, both from past as well as present, knock into him, making him grit his teeth against it. He jumps off the bed with a push of his hands, heading over to the door, opening it without even looking to see who it was. He knew who it was. As well as he knew himself.

It was Seth.

His hair was still damp, from an apparent shower, his eyes looking at Dean with an openness he hadn't seen in eight hundred forty three days, when a chair shot defined the rest of all their lives. His hands clench into fists, feeling that urge once more to grab onto Seth-whether to hit him or cling to him was still not clear to him; hadn't been clear for ages.

He steps aside without a word, giving Seth the time to decide what he wants to do. Seth swallows openly and moves past him. He closes the door firmly and turns to see Seth looking around the room, with a wistfulness he can't understand. It was a hotel room, same as the rest they had ever been to, so why was he looking like that?

Seth takes a seat across from the bed and Dean takes the edge of the bed. It's quiet and he starts to fidget again. He never liked the silences; it reminded him too much of his past. The quiet before the real nasty shit would begin, before the beatings by his father (when he was around) or the quiet before he heard his mother's sobs (either from a beating from his father or when she had to trick herself out on the occasions when his father was in prison and they ran out of money to eat.)

"Why'd you send that?" He asks finally, voice hoarse.

Seth jerks his head up, looking at Dean with wide eyes. He starts to shake his head.

"I don't-I don't know." Seth says.

"Sure you do." Dean says lowly. Seth shudders. "Is it because I know how it feels to be screwed out of a title? Out of a friendship? Cause sweetheart, I could have told you how that felt two years ago."

Seth flinches and it only gives Dean a small amount of pleasure to see. The sting from the betrayal was still there, might always be so (no matter how things went from here), but there was still apart of him-a part that had always been there, against his will later on, when he didn't want to care, to _feel_ anymore-that hated to see Seth in pain. It brought out his instincts, his emotions that came up to the surface even when he had fought Seth tooth and nail after the betrayal; Brother is hurt? Protect Brother. _Help_ Brother. Help Seth. Because we lo-

He watches Seth's hands clench into fists, watches Seth's eyes turn away from him and it's that which makes his blood boil most. _Look at me_. It was his rallying cry since he got there and found someone who understood him completely, even when they were merely enemies. _Look at me_. When he found someone who understood wrestling like he did. _Look at me_. When he _finally_ found someone on his level. _Look at me_. When he found someone whom he could open up to, for the first time. _Look at me_. When he found someone, for the very first time, who he lo-

"Look at me." He croaks. Goddamnit, he could feel moisture in his eyes and he hated that most. Hated being reduced to a puddle of emotions, of feelings he never wanted to feel to begin with. He had closed himself off for a reason. To be open is to invite the pain. And the pain he had felt, so, so greatly. Nothing compared to the feeling of Seth turning on them. _Nothing_. Not his father's beatings, or his mother's cries, or his own shady past, dealing drugs to survive, turning tricks just like his own mother had so he could get enough money to learn how to take a back drop, a suplex, to become a wrestler-the one thing that kept him going on (until he met Seth and Roman.)

Seth's head jerks up and his eyes widen when he looks at Dean.

"I'm sorry-" Seth starts.

"Tell me why." He rasps. He had to know. The need to know the truth-the whole and complete truth-was important to him. More important than anything right now; even more than the sting of losing the title.

Seth's brows furrow. "Dean. I-" He swallows. "What does that matter now?"

He laughs, unable to stop himself. "Oh, sweetheart. It's _always_ mattered. At least to me. I got that you never gave a shit about me, but for me-"

"Fuck you." Seth hisses, standing up, eyes bright. He looms over Dean, hands digging into Dean's shirt. The sudden distance between them gone, with Seth's body so near his after so long, has his heart thumping into overdrive. "Of _course_ it mattered to me. Why the fuck do you think I-" He breaks off, pulling his hands away from Dean.

No, no, he didn't need to pull away. It had been _so_ long...

He grabs onto Seth's arms, causing Seth to gasp at the sudden contact (and he isn't doing much better-just much better at hiding it.)

"Why you did what?" He says in a calmer tone that he didn't really feel. But it was like dealing with a scared horse; no sudden movements, quiet, so they'd calm down.

Seth shudders, eyes closing, jaw clenching.

"It was too much." Seth finally says. "Oh god, I couldn't take it anymore. It was...too much."

"Working with us?" He asks, voice low. "Being partners, _Brothers_? We had it all, Seth. We had _everything_. And you threw it away, to work with the Devil."

Seth remains silent and Dean pushes on.

"You _knew_ you didn't have to do that to win a title. So don't even _try_ to feed me that bullshit. Yeah, the Authority gave us shit, but we still would have got there. We were the _best_. No other team, no other _wrestlers_ could touch us. And you gave all that away. So you could, what? Be guaranteed a spot on the top? A guarantee of getting betrayed yourself? Cause we _all_ know Hunter's reputation when it comes to working with guys. When they outlive their usefulness, he throws them aside. He did it before you. He did it _to_ you. And he'll do it to Owens, when Owens fails to give Hunter what he wants."

Seth tries to pull out of his grip. "Let me go, Ambrose." He hisses, eyes finally opening to glare at Dean, but he holds firm.

"No. Not until you fucking _talk_ to me, Seth." He hisses back. "Don't know if you knew, but I've had a shitty day and when the person I-when _you_ -finally talks to me, it brings up even more bad memories. You never-told me why. Told us why. You just gave that bullshit explanation and expected me to fall for it. Expected me to-"

"I _wanted_ you to _leave me the fuck alone!"_ Seth shouts and Dean is startled to see tears in his eyes. "Why the _fuck_ do you think I got away from you in the first place? I couldn't fucking stand it anymore." At his look, Seth rages even harder. "Because of _you_ , you idiot. I couldn't stand being around you anymore."

This strikes him where it hurts most, but he does his best (and damn but he knew how to be a good actor) to keep it from showing. He had a feeling it had to do with that, with _him_. But hearing it from Seth himself was another thing entirely and he hated himself for allowing to be hurt by it, by Seth's words.

He abruptly lets go of Seth's arms and the spot on the carpet where someone had spilled a soda seemed as good as any to stare at (anything was better than looking at Seth now.)

"Then why did you tell me you were sorry? Me losing the title should have been the best day of your fucking life then." He says, to the floor (the floor didn't judge. Wouldn't look at him with eyes filled with hate or loathing instead of the things that he _actually_ wanted to see from them-)

"Because I _am_ sorry." Seth says. "It...it took me a long time to work through everything. Hunter's betrayal was just the catalyst for me to try and reach out to you. Because...maybe you'd talk to me then."

He lets out another humorless laugh. "I've been trying to talk to you for two years, Seth. _You're_ the one who never wanted to listen."

"I couldn't." Seth says quietly. "Even just seeing you was always too much for me. It's-too much now."

He growls, standing up, startling Seth. "Then _get the fuck out_ if I'm bothering you too badly. _You_ are the one who reached out to _me_."

Seth gives him an almost pitying look. "You really don't get it then? I thought...back then, I thought you felt the same. I just couldn't handle it then. It was all too much. It's _still_ so much, but I...I miss you and I don't want to run away anymore."

Seth's admission hits him as hard as his harsh words from before, though he also feels confused.

"Thought what? I don't..." He swallows. "Don't understand."

"I thought you were in love with me as much as I'm in love with you."

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He stares at Seth. And stares some more. He feels tears of his own prickle his eyes once more and Seth's eyes widen in shock. He tries to reach out for Dean but stops himself midway. Dean grabs onto the hand like it's a lifeline, wrapping both his hands around it. Seth lets out a soft sound.

"Dean-"

" _That's_ why you left?" He rasps. In all of his thoughts, equations, that had never occurred to him. He had _longed_ for it, of course, but had never been able to take that next step, to try and see, the thought of rejection too great. He had somehow been lucky enough to find two people in his life who became his Brothers, became people whom he could truly rely on and _trust_ and he wouldn't have done anything to fuck that up.

"I've never...been in love with anyone before." Seth says softly. "Ever. I couldn't handle it."

"So you got away."

"I tried. You wouldn't let me," Seth says wryly, laughing a bit. His eyes soften as he looks at Dean, using his free hand to wipe at Dean's eyes. He shivers against the light contact. "But I tried, yes."

"Never let you get away." He whispers. Seth is the one to shiver now. "I love you too much to ever let you get away."

His eyes widen when he realizes what he just said, but Seth is the one who looks the most shocked. In moments Seth's mouth is over his.

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He groans against Seth's ear as Seth's grip on his cock tightens, moving his hand up and down his now wet cock. They had barely managed, after all but fucking with their lips, to scramble onto the bed, opening each others pants so they could get to their hard cocks. He all but fucks Seth's hand and Seth moans. He takes that as a good time to lean in, kissing Seth hard, tongue waging war with his, mouths scraping together, making wet and loud smacks as they try to do everything but merge together.

Seth's cock is a pulsing, living, _hungry_ , thing in his callosed grip and Seth's moaning, hips jerking as Dean jerks him off is the hottest thing he has ever heard and he wants more of it. _More, more, more_ , is in his bloodstream, his thoughts, his mouth. He rolls his hips against Seth's grip, using his free hand to bring them closer. The small bits of bare skin pushing against each other only setting him off more.

"More. _More_. Oh god-" Seth groans. His hips jerk a few more times before he cries out, spunk covering Dean's hand, the both of them. He follows suit moments later, groaning against Seth's neck, against his slackening grip, shuddering with the pleasure that overtakes him.

He pulls back enough so he can kiss Seth again, in a much gentler kiss than either of them had given the other. Seth moans. He finally pulls back, breathing deeply, forehead against Seth's.

"Seth?"

"Mm?"

It's quiet for a moment, before Dean speaks again.

"I ever tell you about the time that Sami Callihan went streaking through the HWA parking lot?"

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


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